


Fight for Paradise - Archive (Destiel)

by JohnConstantine



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angels beating each other up for some reason, M/M, first fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 13:29:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1471564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JohnConstantine/pseuds/JohnConstantine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An OLLLLLLLD fic of mine posted here just to be archived, Essentially, angel fighting tournaments in post apocalyptic Earth, Dean's a handler who's given one of the best there is, Castiel. Sabriel undertones.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fight for Paradise - Archive (Destiel)

“Cass, what the hell, man?”

“Shut up, Dean!”

The sound of cheering demons rang over the arena, tossing random things from tomatoes to human heads at the courts. Castiel, Team Free Will’s lead fighter huffed as he tackled his demon opponent, his large, black wings pulled back to give him speed. The demon struggled to keep his feet, but Cas’ heavy attack sent him flying. 

“Keep him down Cas!” Dean shouted from the sidelines of the ropes, mimicking his fighter’s moves as he coached. “Do something!”

Cas cracked his fingers, and launched himself on the demon, determined to keep this one down. With one knee on the demon’s back and his palms pushing his face, Cas was declared the winner.

“What the hell was that?” Dean asked in disbelief. “You were giving him an edge! YOU DON’T DO THAT, CAS.”

Castiel wiped the dripping blood from his mouth. “Up yours,” he replied darkly.

“Well, then,” the accent of Crowley’s voice somehow seemed to ring over the screaming demons. “Your scrawny meat-thing here is quite the fighter. I wonder how he’d do against Michael…”

“Hey, he doesn’t fight angels, Crowley. That’s how it goes.”

“Gentlemen, that’s why I’m here. I have a proposition for you. Enter your shit angel in the tournament I’m holding, have him beat Michael, and I might just let him go.”

Cas’s face was stone. “And what if we don’t?”

“Then you’ll be kittyboy’s dirty pet forever,” Crowley grinned.”I hope to see you two there.”

Dean whistled. “Finally out of the business? Sounds promising, huh Cas?”

“Sounds like demon shit,” the angel replied, closing his eyes to address his wounds. “I might be a trap, Dean.”

“What if it’s not, man? What if we could be done with this whole Angel on Demon crap and finally live our lives?”

“That’s not the only problem,” Cas said.

“Then what’s the other?”

“Crowley’s top fighters, Lucifer and Michael. They’re my brothers.”

Dean’s eyes widened. “Angels have brothers?”

He nodded. Cas’s concern was clearly evident in his voice. Killing a demon was common place in the black arenas. It was okay. But never had there been a clean fight in a red arena, and usually both the fighters wound up dead. If Cas died, Dean would just be assigned another angel to train. But Cas and Dean had developed a close friendship, the two of them overcoming both the White and Yellow battle arenas. They had even fought side-by-side with Dean’s brother, Sam, and his angel, Gabriel. Dean felt immediate sadness at the thought of his brother. He hadn’t seen Sam since Gabriel’s loss in the latest Black arena tournament.

“What do you want to do?” He asked, finally.

Cas looked up from where he sat on a bench. “Let’s kick some ass.”

**Chapter 2**

Crowley’s lackies knew better than to treat Angel Handlers with disrespect. Angels were powerful, and if what these guys had heard about Castiel, they knew that he was to be respected, even if he  _was_  Scum. Especially if the boss respected him.   
"This way Gentlemen," Crowley’s Scottish accent rang over the large office where he resided. "Hello, Castiel."  
The angel didn’t speak. He knew better.  
"You boys have won three consecutive championships in a row, blowing out your competition. I like it."  
"So you want us to take on your big boys?" Dean asked.  
"Oh, yes. Michael and Lucifer need a meat-sack to bang on ever couple of days. Angels, get restless after awhile."  
Dean sighed. “What are the rules for this competition?”  
"First off, your pet’s wings are going to have to be clipped. No quick transportation. No regeneration in battle, and no biting. Oh, and don’t touch the holy flames."  
"That’s it?" He smirked at Cas. "We got this."  
"Aaaaaaaand the loser dies."  
That information hit Cas like a bag filled with rocks. “I would have to kill, my brothers to move on?”  
The King of hell shrugged. “Them’s the rules.”  
"Alright, fine. That’s not so bad, huh Cas?"  
The angel was still silent, giving a glare at his handler.  
"Alright, boys," Crowley made several hand gestures towards the demons, who circled the duo and lead them to the door. "I’m rooting for you."  
  
"Dammit, Cas, you look like my mother tryin’ to kill a mouse! Deliver harder kicks ya Idjit!" Bobby Singer ordered as he watched the angel deal weak blows to the fighter robot. His breath was heavy and his hand bled bad from a blow from the fighter ‘bot’s arm. Castiel had been under Bobby’s training since he was assigned to Dean, and the angel had learned everything he knew from Bobby. "You look like a woman! Kick it in the ass!"  
"And what’s wrong with a woman?" A new voice, a demon Dean recognized as Meg. "Your little tree topper’s quite the fighter.  
Dean smirked. “One of the best.”  
"How is he in sword fighting?"   
"That’s probably his best skill. He’s a killer with an angel blade."  
"Good, because as I’m sure you know, the final battle takes place with blades and holy fire."  
Dean shrugged like it was no big deal. “Cas’ll beat them. He’s tough for a little scrawny dude with wings.”  
Meg tiled the side of her mouth into a smile. “We better hope so. Or Castiel will die and you’ll be stuck in your family’s business, and save your friend.”  
Meg was right. The family business. Since the Apocalypse started forty years ago, Angel Kickboxing had become the prime source of entertainment for the demons. The remaining humans were ordered to train these angels and get them in the ring. Sam and Dean’s father, John, was the best Handler. His last and closest angel, Balthazar, even won the hyper Yellow Arena. After Balthazar’s stunning loss in the Red Arena, John was heartbroken. He later passed with his pet, leaving Mary to handle the recruiting for fights and assigning angels in the Winchester-Harvell Alliance. Dean’s first fight was at a Black random battle with a demon twice Cas’ size. But the angel surprised everyone with his quick footing and wing combat. The demon was down in seconds. Dean knew he had a superior fighter, and so he trained Castiel under Bobby Singer, who ran the dojo out of town. Bobby had been impressed by Cas’s skills and determination, and had helped the angel learn many new skills.   
"We’ll get out of this. Cas  _will_  win. He’s good.”  
"So are half the other angels out there," Meg pointed out. "Cas will get his ass handed to him sometime."  
"Why do you care? You’re a demon?"  
Meg moved out of the way as the fighter bot’s head landed beside her feet. “Because,” she grinned. “I’m a little different from most demons.”  
Cas’s chest moved heavily as he tried to heal himself, bruises and cuts evaporating.  
"Nice job, Cas," Bobby complemented. "Now, you need to strike just a bit quicker with overhand jabs. The enemy can see those, and they can either block or grab you. If they do grab you, deliver a underhand kick to the ribs, and knock out their wind."  
Castiel nodded, his breathing sowing as he healed. “I understand.”  
"You were great, Cas," Dean smiled at his angel. "Really kicking that robot’s ass."  
"I’m ready for a real fight now," the angel said simply.  
"Are you sure about that, dude? You don’t look so good."  
"I’m-," Castiel’s legs began to wobble, and he had to brace himself on the side of the ring. Both Bobby and Dean raced up to catch the angel, who fell limp in their arms.   
"Take him to the sofa," Bobby ordered, and Dean hoisted the angel on his shoulders, and lightly placed him on Bobby’s futon.  
"Damn," Dean spat.  
"We’ll let him rest for a bit, and give him time. We’ve been workin’ with him since early," Bobby said, "Now I need you to check these videos with me."

**Chapter 3**

"He keeps giving heavy kicks but weak deliveries. Cas needs to figure out where and how to hit his foe before he delivers. He’s weakin’ up, Dean."  
"Well, that’s why when he wakes up; we’ll have him take on the bot on again."  
"I don’t know if that’s a good idea," a new voice said. "He’s gonna be battling angels, let him battle an angel."  
Dean automatically recognized the voice. “Sammy!”  
The younger brother gripped Dean into a hug. “I heard about Cas being accepted into the Red Arenas. That’s awesome!”  
"Yeah, we just found out ourselves. We were training before you got here. Hi, Gabriel."  
The Archangel nodded acknowledgement, before looking over at Cas’s limp form. “What’s wrong with him?”  
"He’s overworking himself, that’s what!" Bobby snapped. "Dumbass is gonna get himself killed!"  
Dean sighed. “Bobby, Cas is just trying his best.”  
"You have too much sympathy for that angel."  
"And what’s wrong with being sympathetic?" Ellen’s voice rang as she and Raphael entered the small feedback room. "You keep that up boy."  
"Hey Ellen," Sam greeted.   
She smacked him across the head. “And where the hell have you been?”  
"We’ve been busy," Gabriel answered, propping himself up on a chair in the room.  
"You two never heard of a phone?"  
"Anyway," Dean said, trying to get everyone on track. "Cas’s fight is with some angel named Uriel. Anyone know about him?"  
"I have," Ellen pipped up. "He’s a nasty son-of-a-bitch."  
"That’s a lot of help, thanks Ellen."  
"Hey, most of the people out there don’t believe that Cas is as good as he is. There’s not a lot of revealing media."  
"I just hope Cas can get out of his little spell here and manage to get his head in the game," Bobby grunted. He glanced at the clock on his desk. "Nap time for me. I’ll see _you_  and your smelly angel first thing.”  
"Yes sir," Dean moaned, downing a coffee as he watched Cas’ video again.  
"Go put Cas up, sweat heart," Ellen patted her angel on the shoulder. "He needs something more comfortable than a futon."  
"Have you seen his room, Ellen? He painted everything white."  
She raised her eyebrows. “Now I’m even more concerned.”  
Castiel sat silently at the window sill that Dean jokingly referred to as his perch, and watched as the stars glittered overhead. He tried to do this every night, if he wasn’t busy helping Dean and company or setting up for a match. Just gaze at the stars. At night there was a whole cluster of stars that gathered in the small, nameless suburb that stood as his current residence. But it would all change tonight.  
When Dean and the others awoke, there would be large, black vehicles that would take him and Cas to Crowley’s  city outside of town. There he would have a different home and a different place until he either won, or died.  
He had grown fond of Bobby’s low-budget dojo that served as a home for the Winchester-Haravel Alliance. And even though his roof leaked and his bed smelt like wet dog, he liked the enormous window that accompanied the building. There he would gaze when he wasn’t training, and even shared a beer with Dean while looking at the spectacular fireballs.  
He sighed, blowing a strand of hair out of his face. He needed to fix that.  
"Hey, you okay?" Dean’s voice called from behind the door.   
"Come in," he replied, watching as Dean took a seat in a chair by the sill, a beer in his hands.   
"What do you think about when you sit here?" Dean asked.   
The angel shrugged.”Whatever comes to my mind, I guess.”  
Dean’s lips formed a thin line. “So this is what you do when the humans sleep, huh? Watch some stars twinkle?”  
"I find it relaxing."  
Dean managed a chuckle. “I bet you do,” he handed Cas one of his bottles. “Want one?”  
He took it, twisting off the cap. “Thanks.”  
"Sure, Cas."  
"What do you think about, Dean. When you can’t sleep?"  
"Usually about getting the hell outta the business. Getting to Paradise, whatever that is. And taking my friends with me. We don’t deserve what we have. It’s…too much."  
Cas’s wings ruffled. “So you wish angels were free?”  
"Hell yeah I do. We have no right to use you like slaves, Cass. I mean, hell you guys could just kill us if you wanted to. You should have respect."  
"…Thank you, Dean. I think that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me."  
"Your welcome, Cas."  
The two clinked bottles before returning to the stars. Dean’s snore rang a few hours later. Cas hadn’t noticed at first, but when he did, he teleported Dean back to his own room. 

*

Well it’s about time he left,” a voice called over from the back of the room. “I was thinking he’d never leave.”

"Meg," Cas greeted her, before he made his way over, kissing her face gently. Meg slid off her black dress and pushed him down on the mattress. 

The sex was what probably kept him going. Not that he minded it only came about once a month, whenever Cas was sure Dean and Bobby were sound asleep, which, again, wasn’t often. He also wasn’t very good, according to Meg, but obviously she didn’t mind. It was hard to form relationships in the Apocalypse, and obviously she was gonna take what she could.

"What’s wrong, Clarence? You’re letting me do all the work again."

"You know I’m leaving tomorrow?"

"Of course. Crowley’s big bad tournament," She muttered as she slid in the bed next to him, resting her head on his chest. "Scared?"

"No, just…worried That I might fail."

She smiled, “well, at least you got kitty boy. Deano will figure something out.”

He stared at he rwith a quizzical look. “Why does everyone refer to him as a furry?”

"Nevermind."

**Chapter 4**

The following day, heavy vehicles parked out front of the Singer dojo, awaiting Dean and Cas. Dean, of course, was placed in the VIP car seated in the middle of the four vans. Castiel was issued the back car, and they made their way to Crowley’s city.   
The lights blinked overhead as the head car pulled into the hotel that served as the combatants of the Red Arena’s home. Castiel chose a spot on the window sill to rest at, while Dean tossed his suitcase on the lavish bed he was provided. Castiel watched his Handler as the human tossed his clothes into the dresser. Castiel primarily wore the same grey shirt and fight pants he wore in fights, only he was able to repair them himself with his powers.   
"You okay, Cas?" Dean asked after a while, his voice shaking the angel from his thoughts.  
"I’m…apprehensive."  
"You’re nervous about the fight?"  
Cas blinked. “I didn’t say that…”  
Dean smiled. “It’s okay, man. I’m nervous too. At least this isn’t a termination round.”  
"At least," Cas agreed, before looking back out his window.  
ROUND ONE-  
URIEL VS. CASTIEL  
The large, dark skinned angel danced lightly on the balls of his feet, watching with interest as Cas delivered several terrible blows.  
"It must be fun, brother, to have a Handler that actually cares about you," Uriel laughed as Cas dodged a kick. "Someone you can call friend for the first time in your miserable life?"  
"Shut up," Cas’s reply was cut short from the contact of Uriel’s foot to the side of his face. Castiel shuffled back as blood filled his mouth. He spit out the glob, and returned to a fight stance.  
"I wonder what it would be like to feel the crack of his bones…"  
"I SAID SHUT UP!" Castiel lunged, and with a graceful spin dealt a heavy blow to Uriel’s chest. The angel staggered back, his shoulders sinking as he struggled for breath. He was in better shape than Cas was, the black-winged one was covered in fresh bruises and was bleeding bad from his nose. Uriel watched in amusement as Castiel continued to fight, pushing for that prize of freedom. It was pathetic.   
"Castiel, hoping for a new world is futile," he jibbed. "And you will never make it anyway."  
"Is that so?" Castiel asked. Before Uriel knew it, Castiel had appeared behind him, and grabbed the other angel’s arm. Uriel was immobilized. Cas’ lips drew back into a snarl, and he whispered so quietly into Uriel’s ear. "Well, then, I’d like to see you live though this, Uriel, and prove me wrong."  
Castiel dashed behind Uriel, his feet like a blur as his knee dug deep into Uriel’s back. Uriel let out a cry of alarm as Css sped back in front and delivered a massive kick to Uriel’s face, listening with satisfaction to the sound of cracking bones.   
Dean’s eyes were wide as saucers. Never had he seen Castiel do something like that. Maybe Cas was far more powerful than he thought.  
There was a moment of silence in the arena, and after awhile the demons resumed their jeers and cheers.   
Cas seemed unaffected by the stream of applause. Instead he spit out another ball of blood before stepping off the ring.  
"What the hell was that?" Dean demanded when he caught up with his angel.  
"I was winning the match, like you wanted."  
"Cas, you snapped a guy’s neck. With your feet. What’s going on?"  
"Nothing’s going on," the angel muttered. "You want paradise. Well, so do I, Dean, and we’re not going to get it by losing."  
Dean didn’t argue anymore. If Cas thought he was right, he was right. He idly followed his angel to the elevator that would take him back to the hotel room. “You sure you okay, man?”  
"I’m fine, stop asking."  
The rest of the night was frighteningly quiet. Dean was pouring himself several glasses of alcohol and downing each one with a swift gulp.. In his peripheral vision, he could see Cas sitting on that window sill, watching the stars quietly. Dean had to almost do a double take. Cas’ large, black wings weren’t visible. He knew that for the for the angel, displaying them was a source of pride. Now Dean knew something was wrong.  
"Cas, what the hell is wrong?"   
The angel sighed. “Nothing, Dean.”  
"Really? Because you usually get just a tinge excited about winning a fight, Cas. And you’re sitting here, moping and self loathing and it’s annoying!"  
"I’m fine, Dean. I’m just-"  
The human glared at him. “Don’t you ‘I’m fine Dean’ or make excuses to me, Cas! Come on man, we’re friends. Just tell me what the hell is wrong with you, and I’ll be satisfied, okay?”  
Castiel looked up at him, and let out a heavy sigh. “I’m tired, Dean.”  
Dean raised an eyebrow. “What do you mean?”  
"I mean I’m sick of everything here. I’m sick of the demons and the fights. Frankly, I’m sick of your face."  
"Thanks, Cas. I love your face too."  
Castiel rolled his eyes and went back to his window.   
"Fine, you don’t wanna talk, we won’t talk. But you better be back in fighting condition tomorrow."  
Cas waved absently, still saying nothing.  
"Son of a bitch," Dean muttered before heading to bed. **Chapter 5**  
The next morning, Dean had found that Castiel had barely moved. He was still sitting on that window sill, watching the sun poke above the clouds in the early morning sky.   
"I’m gonna run down to the lobby and get some coffee, you want anything?"  
Castiel said nothing.   
"You know, this whole not talking to me thing is gettin’ old," Dean said, trying to provoke the angel for a response. When nothing happened, Dean just shrugged. "Whatever."  
Castiel turned his head towards the door the minute Dean left. He sighed, puffing air from his lower lip to push an unruly mass of hair out of his face. He needed to fix that.  
Dean handed the cashier the money owed and took his steaming cup, blowing into the small hole of the plastic cap. The wind was chilled in the city, and for some reason even under his heavy coat Dean still felt a slight chill. Small flakes of snow filtered down the streets of Crowley’s city, actually turning the demonic plan into a pretty white landscape. Crowley’s city, as it had been called, cities were now named after the wealthiest demons, or the strongest arena fighters. Both Michael and Lucifer had important cities named after them. Maybe one day there would be a Castiel-named city.  
The thought made Dean laugh. Living in a place named after the stuffiest angel out there, wouldn’t that be a vacation?    
He made his way down the sidewalk to the little hideaway park in the center of the city, struggling to see in the dark. The sun was barely peeking over the skyline, and Dean breathed in the fresh Winter air.  
A noise stopped him short. He was being followed.  
He darted closer to the park’s center, trying to get as far as possible from his pursuer. Instead, he felt his chest make contact with an object. “Shit.”  
"Shit’s right, boy," the voice called out. "Your angel cost me several thousand. He wasn’t supposed to win."  
"I guess Cas is better than you expected," Dean chuckled nervously.  
"If you haven’t noticed," the thin figure moved, circling Dean. "Money is what runs in this city. I’m now two thousand short."    
If Dean was afraid, he didn’t show it. “I’d try an ATM, dude.”  
The figure laughed.”I’d try you.”  
Dean tried to run, but the figure was quick. With a swift grasp, Dean’s arm was pinned behind his back, causing the Handler to cry out in pain. The figure held him back, keeping Dean immobilized.  
"I know there was a hefty prize run for you, yesterday. Why don’t you be so kind and share a little?"  
"Bite me!" Dean hissed.  
The human cried out in pain as the figure tossed him into the air, sending him into a slid wall. Dean tried to heave himself unto his feet, but the wind was knocked from him. His chest felt completely crushed.  
The figure made a move towards Dean, and managed to grab the human’s neck.  
"Let him go," Castiel’s voice rang like thunder over the grassy plane, the angel stood firmly in front of the figure, his large black wings open and displayed.   
"I don’t have time for this!" the figure hissed, lunging for Castiel. Cas dodged back, and grabbed the figure’s arms, swinging him over across the field. Cas raced to Dean, scooping the Handler in his arms and teleporting away.  
 **Chapter 6** Dean’s eyes, or rather, heavily swollen eye opened to scan his surroundings. He was in a quiet hospital room, the quiet beep of a heart monitor and Dean’s own heavy breathing were the only sounds he could hear. he tried to sit up, but his chest creaked in protest. He felt like hell.  
"Dean?" Cas’ deep voice rasped. The angel was out from his line of sight.  
"Cas? You’re okay?" Dean asked, surprised at how deep and groggy his voice sounded.  
"Yeah, I’m fine. I called Sam. He has clearance to run me in the next match. Thought you should know."  
"You saved my life."  
"I-You’re welcome, by the way."  
"It means a lot to me, Cas," Dean tried to smile, but his swollen face refused. "I uh, want you to have something," with his unbroken arm, he felt around the nightstand by his bed, grabbing what looked like a shiny gold thing tethered on a black leather cord. "Here."  
"What is it?" The angel asked.  
"It’s like a good luck charm, I guess. Sam found it and gave it to me when we were kids. Said it was special. I want you to have it."  
An odd feeling rushed through Castiel. He examined the golden amulet, his thin fingers tracing the engraved face. “Thank you.”  
"And don’t you lose it," Dean managed to smirk. "I want that back some day."  
The angel nodded, glancing at the clock that hung just above Dean’s bed. “I’ll do my best in the fight, for you, Dean.”  
"You kick some ass, Cas."  
ROUND 2  
  
CASTIEL VS RACHEL  
  
Castiel watched as his opponent circled him, his blue eyes focused, his unruly black hair flopping into his face. with a quick blow from his lips he managed to catch Rachel lunging towards him, her feet aimed square for his head. He dodged, his left foot catching Rachel’s and knocking her down to the floor.  
  
"Yes, Cas!" Sam shouted from his place behind the ring, Gabriel shouting cheers beside him as Cas delivered another quick blow to the female angel’s side. She doubled over, before sending her foot straight into Cas’ nose. Blood dripped from the wound. Both the combatants were obviously drained. The fight needed to end, and quick.  
Come on Cas! Sam silently cried out, praying for the angel to make this fight.  
Suddenly, a loud crack echoed though out the ring as Rachel fell over, her body spasmodic in pain. Cas’ cracked his neck, wiped the blood from his nose and mouth, and headed off the ring.  
Sam was speechless. He hadn’t even seen Cas move. Dude was quick.  
"Nice job, Cas," Sam smiled as the angel flopped down on the bench next to Gabriel. Sam headed to the cooler to toss Cas a bottle of water. Gabriel handed him a towel. "How the hell did you do that?"  
"Do what?" the angel replied, confused.  
"Well, you just kinda exploded into a fighting genius."  
"I have to be. These arenas aren’t for the weak, Sam. I need to use everything I have."  
Sam considered it. “Good point.”  
"Have you got any news on Dean’s condition?"  
"He’ll be able to return in a few days. He was pretty badly shaken up."  
"Maybe he should have been such an idiot," a new voice, accented, rose from the loud crowd. "Hello, kids."  
Sam’s eyes widened in shock. “Balthazar? How the hell are you-“  
"Alive? Good question. Your Daddy never lost that fight, Sam. He won. We won. And we were freed."  
"My…father’s alve?"  
"Well, not anymore. But that’s not why I’m here," Balthazar looked over Castiel in a quick glance. "This scrawny thing the magnificent Castiel?"  
Cas shot the newcomer a glare.  
"Well, we can’t have this fight Michael in the final games, can we?" Balthazar slapped Cas on the back, causing him to spew his water. "Let’s get started."  
Sam blinked. “Started with what?”  
"Training. Now, I know you don’t own this one, so give his handler this," the angel handed Sam a folded sheet of paper. "Have him meet me in three days, or deal’s off."  
"To what deal was he referring?" Cas asked.  
"I have no idea," Sam replied. **Chapter 7** As soon as Dean was released from the hospital, his handler was back to training the angel. Castiel told him about the meeting with Balthazar, and Dean decided to take the free angel’s offer. The headed down to Balthazar’s place, marveling at the condition and beautiful home the angel lived in.  
"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL?" Balthazar’s voice snapped as he oversaw another fighter at a punching bag. "You actually expect to get anywhere kicking like a fucking pansy? What the fuck are you- Oh, hello, Cassie. Dean."  
Dean stepped up to the angel. “So you wanna train Cas?”  
"Boy, I was fighting and training before your Daddy got his cold hands on me. I could turn Castiel into the best fighter you have ever seen."  
Dean exchanged glances with his angel. “How exactly?”  
"Simple. I see real potential in Castiel here. He’s a prime fighter. Not many angels can accomplish what he has in so little time. But he’s slow in reactions, although quick in the feet, and weak in the deliveries. He won’t be able to snap everyone’s neck like he did that Uriel."  
"Alright. What do we do first?"  
"First," Balthazar sent Dean back on a bench, and next thing the human knew, the two angels were in a ring. "He fights me."  
"Um," Dean spoke up. "Cas can get a little…aggressive…"  
"Unlike him, I’m free. I have my abilities, so no need to worry about me. He can’t kill me."  
Dean shrugged, wincing as pain radiated from his broken shoulder.   
A ring blasted over the air. Castiel and Balthazar circled one another. Cas kept his eyes pinned on Balthazar, watching the older angel move with the same graceful feet that Castiel exhibited. He lunged.  
"The first thing that was wrong," Balthazar scolded as he quickly dodged Cas’ attack, throwing the smaller angel into the ropes across the ring. "You gave me time to anticipate your moves. Also to read your mind, which, believe me, is a skill many angels don’t know they have. it takes concentration to pull it off, but it’s really not hard.  
"Second mistake, you use a certain foot before the other. Angels are ambidextrous, but you rely on your vessel’s choice. Don’t."  
Castiel heaved himself up, and rammed full speed at Balthazar. As if dodging a bull, Balt simply stepped aside, spinning and delivering a kick to the side of Cas’ jaw. The angel recoiled, and aimed a slam at Balt’s side, but fell short of his quick movements.  
Dean was in awe of Balt’s cunning movements and speed.  
"Third mistake, you let an opponent who’s both faster and stronger than you near your limbs. You need to learn that you’re vulnerable," Balt said as he dashed like lightning behind Cas, kicking his legs out from under him. Castiel slammed hard against the ring mat, gasping as the wind was knocked from him. Balthazar smirked at his fallen student as he kneeled on the mat beside him. "You won’t get many chances to beat in someone’s head like you did those demons. Here in this arena you have to think and fight, not one or the other. These angels are tough, and Michael will be the toughest challenge you’ve ever had to face. If you don’t learn these things, Cas, you  _will_  die.”  
"Cas!" Dean grunted as he limped over to his angel. Castiel lay motionless as he soaked in Balthazar’s words. "You okay?"  
"I’m fine," Cas replied, still motionless.  
"…You gonna get up?"  
"Probably not."  
"What are you taking a nap?" Dean was confused.  
"No, I’m thinking."  
"Well, fine. I’ve got more than just you to train, you know," Balt said as he spun around, prepared to leave the ring.   
But he was stopped by the feeling of Castiel’s knee in his back. Blat smirked and swung his foot around, but Castiel had already moved away and delivered a blow to Balt’s side. The other angel collapsed, laughing as he pulled himself on the ropes to his feet.   
"Now that," he breathed. "IS what I’m talking about."    **Chapter 8** "This is it," Dean muttered as he and Cas entered the huge auditorium that would hold the final battle. "Let’s go."  
"Dean," Cas suddenly grabbed his handler’s arm, his blue eyes staring into the human’s green. "I want you to promise me something."  
  
"Sure, Cas, what?"  
  
Castiel handed him a slip of paper. “Give this to Meg.”  
  
"The chick from the black arena? Sure, I guess. Why not give it to her yourself?"  
  
"No one makes it out of here," Cas said, making his way in front of Dean towards the ring.  
  
Excitement seemed to explode all over the ring. Cas shoot one final glance at Dean, who in turn sent a supportive smile. Michael was preparing himself, prodding his angel sword and poking the tip. Cas wielded his own blade, and as the flames of the holy ring rose, a look of fierce determination crossed his face.  
  
They lunged, Cas backstepping with Michael, using the fencing techniques he had learned from Balthazar to keep Michael at an even parry. Castiel lunged, slicing his sword over Michael’s chest. White light burst from the wound, and Michael doubled over in pain.  
  
Castiel tightened his grip on his weapon. “I’m sorry, brother.”  
  
Micheal screamed as his eyes formed white flames. Dean covered his eyes to avoid being blinded. when the screaming ended. Michael fell over, dead.  
  
Demons cheered all over the arena. Castiel huffed as he tossed his sword over, watching with satisfaction as the holy flames died down.  
  
"Holy shit Cas," Dean said as he ran up to his angel, a warm smile on his face. "we’re going to fucking paradise."  
  
"Nice job gentlemen," Crowley greeted as he appeared beside Cas and Dean. You managed to make it."  
  
Dean slapped his hand on Cas’ should, obviously proud.  
  
"You boys get a free trip to Paradise."  
  
____  
  
Dean jumped awake as the alarm on the hotel clock blared. Sam slowly rose as he tried to wake up.  
  
That was a dream? Dean asked himself. What the hell…  
  
"Dean you alright?" Sam asked.   
  
"Yeah, I just had a really weird dream."  
  
"Whatever. We gotta go meet Cas."  
  
"Yeah, a moment," he fell back into his bed, rubbing his palm on his face. "Fuck me…" he muttered.


End file.
